Ramsay's Bride
by LyrisaLove
Summary: For her it was like walking down an aisle towards her own nightmare. For him it was getting a new toy to break. Dark themes. Ramsay/OC
1. Prologue

**This story starts almost exactly the same way as Ramsay's scene with Roose Bolton in season 5, when he announces that he shall have to marry. Although he shan't be marrying Jeyne Poole or Sansa Stark. Instead it'll just be another OC.**

 **This is my very first Game of thrones fic. But my 13th story on this site, so hopefully you'll enjoy it. By the way I love it when you guys suggest things for my stories. It really motivates me knowing that my readers get what they want. Of course there'll be a little or rather a lot of suspense here and there so you guys won't know what's coming! So please review and enjoy! :)**

 **\- Lyrisa xoxoxo**

* * *

 **Prologue**

* * *

Roose Bolton was an intelligent and ruthless man. He was of average size with a soft and hairless body. Honestly, he was rather pleasant looking if you didn't know him that well. He had a rather plain face, beardless and ordinary, with his only noticeable feature being his eerie eyes, which were as pale and strange as two white moons.

The Warden of the north was also cautious, he never publicly expressed his anger, happiness or even his sadness. That was what helped him take over Winterfell in the first place and become it's lord.

His son, however was a sadistic, psychotic savage monster and completely capable of committing unspeakable atrocities without remorse, simply for the fun of it.

He was quite fond of the old Bolton custom of flaying their enemies alive. Lord Bolton, however did not approve of his ways, but he knew that he needed an heir to keep his bloodline going, and for that to happen his son had to marry a suitable bride.

He knew, deep down that the bride in question wouldn't live a happy life, but he also couldn't bring himself to care. He needed an heir and to do that, Ramsay needed a wife.

The boy, Ramsay had just returned from collecting taxes, with him, he bought at least three completely flayed bodies. And there he sat, at a table scoffing down his food as though he hadn't eaten in days.

"You can't hold the North if you let these lesser lords insult us." Roose started, as Ramsay continued to eat. "I sent you there to collect taxes, not bodies."

Ramsay scoffed. "Lord refused to pay. He said the Warden of the North will always be a Stark, and he'd be damned if he kissed a traitor's boot." He paused, with that dark yet almost proud grin on his face. "I flayed him living, along with his wife and brother. I made his son watch."

It was amazing how he talked about it, as though it was something anyone would've done... As though it was normal. "And?"

"The new Lord paid his taxes." Ramsay chuckled, with that dark victorious gleam in his pale blue eyes.

Roose almost rolled his eyes at that. The thing with Ramsay was... well, he had his own way of doing things. See, he'd do everything his father asked him to do , but he'd make his own fun out of it... flaying people alive for one thing.

"I have something important to tell you." His father stated, after a while of silence.

Ramsay nodded as he took yet another forkful of food. "Stop eating and listen." The boy glared at his father, but obeyed him nevertheless. "We don't have enough men to hold the North if the other Houses rise up against us." He sighed, almost angry. "Do you understand that?"

He shook his head, frowning slightly. "Our pact with the Lannisters-?" But Roose cut him off.

"I had a pact with _Tywin_ Lannister. Tywin Lannister is dead." He told him. "The remaining Lannisters are a thousand miles away dealing with that fact. They've never once in the history of the Seven Kingdoms sent their army this far north. If you think they will for us, you're a fool." Ramsay nodded in understanding. "We've become a great House by entering in alliances with other Houses, and parleying those alliances into greater power."

Ramsay knew where this was going and he couldn't hep but smirk a little. "Now the best way to forge a lasting alliance isn't by peeling a man's skin off, the best way is marriage." Roose paused, as though waiting for a response but Ramsay didn't give one. "Now that you're a Bolton by royal decree, it's time you married a suitable bride. And as it happens, I found the perfect girl to solidify our hold in the North."

"What's her name?" Was the only question Ramsay could think of.

"Her name is Lyrianna Stark."

Ramsay frowned. "A Stark? What good will it do if I ma-?"

"Her sister and her have been travelling with Petyr Baelish, the Lord Protector of the Vale. If you marry her you will one day become Lord of Winterfell, and you won't have to fight to keep it. Her eldest brother is dead, making her the rightful heir of Winterfell. If you marry her, then you'll be the rightful heir. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Ramsay nodded. "I've heard she is the prettiest girl in the North."

Roose glared at his son. "Is that all you have to say?"

* * *

Lyrianna was indeed very beautiful. Her hair was a rich shade of mahagony. It flowed in waves to adorn her glowing, porcelain-like skin. Her eyes, framed by dark long lashes, were a bright pale green. No doubt Ramsay would like her.

She and her younger sister, Sansa Stark rode behind their step Uncle, Petyr Baelish. A short man of slender build, with sharp features, Petyr had gray-green eyes, a small pointed beard on his chin, and threads of grey running throughout his short, dark hair.

He was, at times capable of putting on a seemingly friendly face with a friendly smile - but his eyes didn't often smile when his mouth did.

Of course, Lyrianna and her sister were incredibly grateful when he saved Sansa's life from their aunt, but Lyrianna wasn't stupid, on the contrary she was rather clever. And she knew that everything he did wasn't for her or her sister. Like marrying her deranged aunt Lysa before pushing her out of the moon door while she threatened to kill Sansa... All that so he could become lord of the Vale.

Nevertheless, she knew how much he loved their mother, Catelyn and how he was helping them to honor her. So for that, she trusted him.

"That's Moat Cailin." She stated, as she got off of her horse, Petyr and Sansa following her as she made her way to the edge of the cliff.

Petyr nodded. "Yes. A bit shabby, isn't it? You've been here before."

Sansa answered before she could. "On our way down to King's Landing, with our father and Arya and-"

"-Where are you taking us?" Lyrianna almost demanded, a feeling of dread rising into her stomach.

Her uncle sighed. "Home."

"The Boltons have Winterfell." Sansa blurted out

"The marriage proposal... It wasn't for you, was it?" Her stomach churned when she watched him shake his head. "Roose Bolton murdered our brother. He betrayed our family!" She yelled.

"He did."

"He serves the Lannisters." Sansa added in disgust.

"For now."

Lyrianna glared at him. "I won't go."

"Winterfell is your home." Petyr tried to reason with her.

She could feel a tear rolling down her pale cheek. "Not anymore."

"Always. You're a Stark. _Lyrianna_ Stark. The eldest surviving child of Ned and Catelyn Stark." He all but whispered. "Your place is in the North, with your sister by your side."

"I can't marry him." She hissed. "You can't make me. He's a traitor. A murderer-!"

"You're not marrying Roose Bolton." He exclaimed, then she understood, her heart beat accelerating. "No, you'll be marrying his son and heir, Ramsay. One day he'll be Warden of the North and-"

"No!" She yelled. "Have you not heard what he's capable of?!"

"Sansa, go wait by your horse, we'll join you in a minute." Lyrianna watched her sister walk away and frowned as she glanced back at Petyr. "Lyrianna-"

"No, you can't make me. I will starve myself. I will die before I have to go there." She cried.

He gently grabbed her shoulders and stared into her sky like eyes. "I won't force you to do anything." He promised. "Don't you know by now how much I care for you? Say the word and we'll turn the horses around, but listen to me." She bowed her head. "Listen. You've been running all your life. Terrible things happened to you and your family and you weep. You sit alone in a dark room, mourning their fates. You've been a bystander to tragedy from the day they executed your father."

Lyrianna closed her eyes at the memory. "I-"

"Stop being a bystander, you hear me? Stop running. There's no justice in the world. Not unless we make it. You loved your family. Avenge them."

She bit her lip and nodded, without saying another word, she made her way back to her horse. "What happened?" Sansa asked.

Lyrianna sighed. "I'm going to marry Roose Bolton's bastard." She knew he wasn't a bastard anymore, but at that moment she didn't care.


	2. Ramsay Bolton

**Chapter 1: Ramsay Bolton**

* * *

Lyrianna's heart pounded when they finally reached Winterfell.

The Boltons and their households greeted her, Sansa and Littlefinger. But as Lyrianna stared into the eyes of Roose Bolton all she wanted to do was drive a dagger into his heart.

"Lady Lyrianna." He greeted her with an expressionless face.

After a tense moment, she graciously accepted his welcome, putting on the armour of politeness that protected her and her sister in King's Landing. "Lord Bolton."

He nodded. "May I introduce my son, Ramsay Bolton."

She tensed slightly as he approached her and gently took her hand in his. "It's an honor to meet you, my lady." He smiled yet his cold eyes stared back at her almost hungrily.

* * *

Later, Lyrianna was bought back to her old chambers. The sixteen year old girl couldn't help but smile slightly when she saw it.

It had been a very long time since she'd stepped foot there and to her it was almost relaxing. Even though deep down she knew it'd never be the same without her father, mother, Arya and her brothers. Sansa was all she had now and she wouldn't let anyone take her away, even if her life depended on it.

She looked around her, noticing that very few things had changed in her room since the last time she saw it. Her jewellery was still put away neatly by her dresser, and the brush her mother used to comb her hair with lay on it's wooden surface.

Picking it up as she sat down, Lyrianna sighed, brushing through her beautiful waves. She missed her family, and to be marrying the son of the man who betrayed her family almost ruined her.

The poor girl frowned slightly, remembering how the last time her mother did her hair Lyrianna had begged her to let her marry Joeffry, the stupid monster who had her father beheaded. "Silly girl." She whispered to herself as she stood up.

Yawning, she started to unfasten the laces on her dress. However, she barely had time to undo it when there was a knock on her door. She sighed in frustration. "Yes?"

The door opened to reveal Ramsay Bolton and her stomach churned uncomfortably. "My lady." He greeted her with a smile as he closed the wooden door behind him.

"What are you doing here?" She asked him, a little worried.

He smirked at her. "Am I not allowed to visit my future wife?" He drawled.

She rolled her eyes mentally, but put on her 'brave' face as she learnt to do in Kings Landing "Forgive me. I'm so tired, I just expected to be left alone this evening. I wasn't expecting any... Visitors."

Ramsay chuckled. "Indeed. You're very beautiful." He stated, changing the subject. "The rumours were true."

Her eyes widened slightly and she couldn't help but blush a little. "Th-thank you, my lord."

"Ramsay." He corrected her. "You're my betrothed. There's no need for such formalities, Lyrianna."

She nodded. "You can call me Lyria. My friends call me- called me that before I went to Kings Landing."

"Are they not your friends anymore... Lyria?" He asked, making his way to sit on her large bed.

He gestured for her to sit beside him, and she did. "I haven't seen them for years... I didn't see them when we arrived here today."

"A lot has happened since you were last here." He stated.

Lyria was quiet for a second, until she felt Ramsay's hand on her thigh, gradually moving upwards. "Uh... Maybe you should go." She sighed. "I'm very tired and-"

"Does my presence not please you, my lady?" He sneered, almost mockingly.

Her eyes widened. "N-no! It's not that... I-I'm just so tired."

He laughed. "You would go to sleep this early in the day? Without eating first?"

"I-"

"We're having a welcome feast this evening for you, your sister and Lord Baelish. We can't welcome you if you're not there." He grinned. "We've got the whole afternoon together until then."

"Ramsay, I've been riding for hours... I-"

He shushed her. "You'll be fine. Come walk with me." He held out his hand for her to take. Lyria took it hesitantly and her future husband took her out side.

They strolled the castle grounds for a while just talking about their houses. Lyria knew about the old Bolton tradition and had to know if the rumours she'd heard about him were true or not.

"I've heard things about you, you know." She started, unsure if she was doing the right thing. He cocked his head as though waiting for her to continue. "Horrible things. Is it true that you flay people living? That you hunt down girls then..."

He smirked. "Are you afraid of me, Lyria?" He asked her, his cold eyes piercing into her own.

She shivered slightly. "I-"

Before she could reply, she was interrupted by her uncle. "Ramsay, I'd like to speak with you, if you don't mind."

Ramsay nodded, waiting for the Lord to speak, but Petyr glanced at Lyria. "Alone, if you will."

Lyrianna smiled politely, grateful for his timing and retired to her chambers to get a little sleep before the feast started.

* * *

"She really is lovely." Ramsay started, as they watched her walk away.

Ramsay noticed his servant, Reek not to far, trying to hide from Lyrianna. Reek, well Theon really, grew up with her but he also betrayed her entire family.

The Greyjoy prince had turned on the Starks and joined Lord Balon in his campaign to seize the North. He took over Winterfell for a short while and installed himself as Prince of Winterfell until he was betrayed by his own crew and delivered to Ramsay at the Dreadfort shortly after.

As his prisonner, Theon had been subjected to physical and psychological torture and mockingly renamed as 'Reek'. Ramsay considered him a pet more than anything.

He sighed, "I hope I can make her happy."

Petyr nodded, "I hope so too." He admitted, almost trying to warn him. "I've become quite fond of Lady Lyrianna during our travels together. She and her sister have suffered enough."

"I'll never hurt her." Ramsay promised, getting the hint. "You have my word."

"I've heard very little about you." Petyr stated. "Which makes you quite a rare thing, as lords go."

Ramsay sighed. "I haven't been a lord very long. I was a bastard-"

"And you're not anymore." His father, Roose stated from behind them. "Allow me a moment alone with Lord Baelish."

"Yes, father. And thank you, Lord Baelish. I'm forever in your debt." And with that, Ramsay left.

Roose and Petyr were left alone. "He seems pleased." Lord Baelish stated.

Lord Bolton frowned."Shouldn't he be?"

"I assure you she's still a virgin." He promised. "Tyrion never consummated the marriage. By the law of the land, she's no man's wife. Inspect her, if you must."

Roose scoffed. "I leave that to the brothel keeper. It's her name I need, not her virtue."

"Then I have delivered everything I've promised."

"And you prepared for the consequences?" Roose assumed. "When the Lannisters hear I've wed Lyrianna Stark to Ramsay."

Petyr nodded. "The Lannister name doesn't mean what it once did. Tywin is dead. He kept his house in power through sheer will. Without him, Jaime has one hand and no allies, Tommen is a soft boy, not a king to fear."

"The Queen will be enraged." Roose reminded him.

"Queen Margaery adores her, and Sansa too. They became good friends in Kings landing. Cersei is Queen Mother, a title whose importance wanes with each passing day."

"And yet she still has friends, men in important places, whom she can ask for favours." He stated, as he pulled out a piece of paper. "A message for you, from Cersei Lannister. A rider arrived from Eyrie, shortly before dawn. Apparently, she thinks you're still in the Vale."

"A message for me, you say." Petyr inspected the letter with interest, "Strange that the seal is broken."

"I'm sure you understand my position, Lord Baelish. If you received word in the night from the Queen Mother, it does make me question our new alliance. Lannisters made you one of the great lords of Westeros.  
Yet, here you are in the North, undermining gamble with your position?"

"Every ambitious move is a gamble." Petyr explained. "You gambled when you drove a dagger into Robb Stark's heart. It appears that your gamble paid off. You're Warden of the North."

"I had Tywin Lannister backing." Roose pointed out. "Who supports me now? You?"

"The Eyrie is mine. The last time the lords of the Eyrie formed an alliance with the lords of the North, they brought down the greatest dynasty this world has ever known... I'd like to borrow one of your birds. Cersei will expect a reply."

"I'd like to read the reply." Roose stated. "This evening there shall be a feast to welcome you and the Stark girls. I'll have a servant sent to your rooms if you need anything."

* * *

 **Please tell me what you think! :)**


	3. The Maid and The Feast

**Chapter 2: The Maid and The Feast**

* * *

Lyrianna stirred as she finally opened her pale green eyes after her peaceful two hour long nap.

She sighed as got out of her bed, and stared out of her window, looking up at the sky to stare at the passing gray clouds. They were moving lazily across the blue evening sky, when she looked down she saw the castle grounds.

The Stark girl couldn't help but remember how Winterfell used to be so peaceful when her father had been Lord of Winterfell.

Winterfell was a huge castle, surrounded by two massive walls and a village located just outside called the Winter Town. Winterfell itself had been built around an ancient godswood and over natural hot springs. The water was piped through walls and chambers to heat them, making Winterfell more comfortable than other castles during the harsh northern winters.

But Lyrianna doubted that it would ever be the same now, knowing how it had almost been destroyed. Inside the walls, there are dozens of courtyards and small open spaces. Weapons training and practice take place in those yards.

She smiled at the thought of her brothers training long before she went south to Kings Landing. Every morning they had trained together, since they were big enough to walk; Snow and Stark, spinning, slashing shouting and laughing, sometimes crying when there was no one else to see.

They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. She let a small tear fall from her eye then, knowing that she'd unlikely see her siblings again.

She looked away from the window and made her way to her case, where she had put all of her clothes. One by one she took them out, placing them into her old and empty wardrobe.

The last gown was neatly folded like all of the others, she drew it out of the suitcase and shook it out, revealing its true glory as she took in the beauty of it. It was an elaborate dress that swept the floor with dramatic elegant long sleeves, pearl accents, an empire waist, and a beautiful flowery pattern.

When she had just about finished lacing the back of it up, there was a sudden knock on the door. "Come in!" She called.

Inside her room, entered a small girl, she couldn't have been older than fourteen. "Milady." She greeted her. "I-I was sent by Lord Bolton to help you prepare for tonight's feast."

Lyrianna smiled at the girl kindly. "That was very kind of him." She stated, almost coldly unable to control her hate towards the man. "But I'm afraid your services are not required. I have already prepared myself."

The maid looked a little worried, as if she didn't know what to do. Lyria sighed softly. "But a bit of good company would be nice... I you don't have any other duties...?"

"Myla." The girl introduced herself. "I haven't been a maid for long, Milady. I started a week ago."

Lyria nodded. "You are very young. Shouldn't you be at home helping your mother-?"

She bowed her head sadly, her raven black hair covering most of her face as she did so.. "N-no. My mother and father are dead."

"Oh my. I'm so sorry!" Of course, she knew exactly how that felt. "My parents are too."

Myla nodded sadly. "Forgive me Milady... I-I shouldn't be talking to you like th-"

"It's okay." She assured her. "I-I think we both need a friend now, don't you? Now, tell me... Myla. Why are you working here? For the Boltons?"

There was a pause, and Myla's deep brown eyes were wide. "My father used to be a farmer, and one night, one of Ramsay's men set our farm alight. He was drunk, see..." Lyria nodded, listening to her story with interest. "My father loved our farm, and out of instinct he attacked. The man ran away and we managed to put out the fire. The next morning... Ramsay came, with a dozen men. He flayed my mother first forcing me and my father to watch."

Lyrianna's heart beat accelerated. "That's barbaric!" She almost yelled.

"It was awful, Milady. Then he did the same to my father... He then set the house and the farm aflame. I lost everything. Ramsay said I'd be useful to him in the castle... Ever since then I've been a maid." She said sadly.

"I can't believe I have to do this." Lyrianna whispered, her eyes glassy with tears.

"Do what, Milady?"

Lyria frowned. "D-don't you know? Why I'm here?"

"You're Lyrianna Stark, this was where you grew up. It's your home." But the young girl didn't seem to understand.

Lyria nodded, her eyes full of fear and sadness. "I guess that servants don't get to know the news until the rumours spread. I-I have to marry him... I have to marry Ramsay Bolton."

Myla's eyes widened. "I'm so sorry, Milady. I-I shouldn't have told you those things! Please don't tell him. He'll kill me!"

It shocked the Stark girl to see someone fear a person as much as this, and that only made her dread her wedding day more. "I-I won't! You're my friend. I swear to the old gods and the new that I won't tell a soul. You're in no danger, Myla."

"I-if we're friends, then I should warn you, Milady. Ramsay Bolton likes getting his,own way... If you displease him he will find a way to punish you. I haven't know him that long but I've seen him angry enough times to know."

* * *

Lyrianna thought long and hard about Myla's warning, as she made her way to the great hall.

The great hall was very grand. On the outside it is enclosed with grey stone and covered with banners... They used to be Starks banners, _hers._ She glared when she saw how the Bolton's had put up their own beside each side of the oak and iron door.

Inside it can hold eight long rows of trestle tables, four to each side of the central aisle, and can seat at least five hundred people, tonight there were no empty seats. There was also a raised platform for noble guests, that's where she sat now.

She was on the right side of the table, next to Ramsay, then Roose, Petyr and Sansa. At that moment she felt so alone. "You seem a little nervous tonight, Lyria." He purred. "Something on your mind?"

"It's nothing." She replied coldly.

He wasn't convinced. "Really? I spoke to your sister earlier. You know what she told me?"

"What did she tell you?"

"She said that you liked hunting with your brothers before, is that true? It's very unladylike." He sneered.

Lyria almost sighed in relief, who knows what Sansa would've said. It's not like her to spread rumours. "My brother, Robb," She resisted the urge to give Roose a glare. "He taught me and Ayra how to use a bow... I haven't had the chance to for ages."

"You know, I like hunting." He whispered to her, his breath touching her skin. He was mocking her and she knew it. "It's a lot of fun... Maybe I'll take you one day."

Her eyes widened slightly, remembering the rumours she'd heard. She answered him with the first excuse that came to mind. "I don't think I'd like to do it without my brother."

He chuckled. "What about your sister?"

Lyria frowned, "She hates hunting." Surely if he talked about that with Sansa then he would know just how much she disapproved.

"Indeed, she does. She told me. But I never said she'd have to hunt." He smirked.

What did he mean by that? "Y-you never answered my question before... When we walked this afternoon."

"Nor you, mine." He retorted, his smirk widening.

Lyria sighed. "I asked you first."

"I asked you second." He replied playfully. "You want to know if the rumours are true? Come with me after the feast. I'd like to show you something."

Lyrianna bit her lip, unsure if that would be a good idea. "Actually I was going to the crypts with my sister... We're going to light the candles again. I doubt they've been lit for a while now."

Ramsay scoffed. "The dead don't need light, Lyria. You'd be wasting your time."

She had to resist narrowing her eyes at him. "Members of my family are buried down there." She almost snapped.

He shrugged. "Fine, go mourn the dead." He all but mocked her. "Join me tomorrow morning. I'll have a maid wake you up."

Lyria glared at him, remembering everything Myla had told her. "Alright. But please don't wake me too early, I've had a rather long day."

He nodded. "Very well. You know, you still haven't answered my question. Are you afraid?" He grinned.

"I'd be stupid not to be." She retorted.

* * *

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	4. The Crypt of Winterfell

**Chapter 3: The Crypt of Winterfell**

* * *

The crypt's ironwood door, which was located in no doubt the oldest section of Winterfell, near the First Keep, was old and heavy.

The damp, dark and gloomy place was accessible by narrow and winding spiral stone steps which lead to multiple floors. One floor contained a long line of granite pillars, two by two, between which are entombed the dead of House Stark.

The old faces of Winterfell's predecessors were carved into the stone, large stone direwolves curled at their feet. So well carved it seemed they were staring at the two girls walking past, lighting candle by candle as they went.

According to tradition, the iron longswords across each lord's lap keep vengeful spirits within the crypt.

The cavernous vault was larger than Winterfell itself, with the older kings buried on deeper and darker floors. The lowest is said to be partly collapsed.

The most recent tombs within the crypts are those of Lord Rickard, Brandon, and Lyanna Stark, where her father had got the idea for her name.

Lyanna Stark had been her father's sister, and to honor her, he had given almost the exact name to his first born daughter.

The tombs further back, empty and unsealed, were saved for future members of House Stark. Lyrianna shuddered at the thought. "Lyria, are you okay?" Sansa asked her. "You're not usually this quiet."

"We're in a crypt, Sansa." Lyria whispered slowly, but anyone could tell that wasn't the reason.

She sighed. "I know, but that never used to stop you." She reminded her. "We both used to sing here together, remember? To bring peace to the dead."

Lyrianna nodded. "I do. But that was a long time ago... Things have changed and the dead have found their piece... I've yet to find my own."

Sansa frowned as she placed a soft hand on her shoulder. "Mother once told me how much your singing bought her joy. I haven't heard you sing since before we went to Kings Landing. I miss it, your voice was so beautiful."

Lyrianna smiled at her sister sadly, embracing her. "Sansa, you know we've both lost so much... First Jon gets sent to the wall, our father beheaded, then Arya disappearing, Mother and Robb dying at a bloody wedding, by Roose Bolton's hand and now I have to marry his son." She her whisper almost came out as a whimper. "You're all I have left and I promise you that I will sing to you again... But now..."

Sansa squeezed her sister's hand reassuringly, a stray tear falling down her cheek. "I understand."

Before they could converse any longer, a familiar voice came out of the shadows. "I thought I might find you two here." Petyr stated.

He came beside them and looked up at the statue of her aunt, sighing. "Your Aunt Lyanna."

Lyrianna nodded. "My father never talked about her. Sometimes I'd find him down here, lighting the candles."

"They say she was beautiful." Sansa added.

Petyr nodded in agreement. "I saw her once. I was a boy, living with your mother's family. Lord Whent had a great tourney at Harrenhal.  
Everyone was there. The Mad King, your father, Robert Baratheon, and Lyanna. She was already promised to Robert. You can imagine what it was like for me, a boy from nowhere, with nothing to his name, watching these legendary men, tilting at the lists. The last two riders were Barristan Selmy and Rhaegar Targaryen.

"When Rhaegar won, everyone cheered for the prince. I remember the girls laughing when he took off his helmet and they saw that silver hair. How handsome he was. Until he rode right past his wife, Elia Martell, and all the smiles died. I've never seen so many people so rode past his wife and he lay a crown of winter roses in Lyanna's lap. Blue as frost. How many tens of thousands had to die because Rhaegar chose your aunt?"

Lyrianna scoffed. "Yes, he chose her... And then he kidnapped her and raped her."

"Come." He beckoned them away from the tombs, "Let's speak somewhere the dead can't hear us."

It was then that Lyria noticed his clothing. "Dressed for riding?"

"I am."

"Where are you going?" Sansa asked, her eyes wide.

"King's Landing."

The two girls exchanged horrified glanced. "King's Landing?!"

"Cersei sent for me. We must not let her sniff out any trouble." He explained.

Lyrianna's heart pounded. "You can't leave us here."

"I know how hard it is to live with people you despise, believe me." He sighed. "But it won't be for long."

"How do you know?"

"Stannis Baratheon garrisons at Castle Black." He stated. "He'll march south to King's Landing before the winter snows block his way. But first, he has to take Winterfell."

Sansa shook her head. "You don't know that."

"I do."

"Once he liberates these lands from the Boltons he'll rally your father's bannermen to his cause. With the North behind him, Stannis can finally take the Iron Throne."

Lyrianna frowned, "You think he'll defeat the Boltons?"

Petyr nodded. "He has a larger army. He's the finest military commander in Westeros. A betting man would put his money on Stannis. As it happens, I am a betting man."

"And if you're right?" She asked.

"Stannis takes Winterfell, he rescues you from the most despised family in the North. Grateful for your late father's courageous support for his claim, he names you Wardeness of the North."

Her eyes widened in shock. "But I-I wouldn't-! Wardeness of the North?" She most defiantly wasn't ready.

"You two are the last surviving Starks." He explained. "He needs you."

Sansa frowned. "What if you're wrong? What if Stannis never attacks Winterfell, or he does and the Boltons defeat him?"

"Then Lyrianna will take this Bolton boy, Ramsay, and make him hers." He smiled at her.

After the rumours she heard about the boy, she doubted it possible. "I don't know how to do that."

"Of course you do. He's already fallen for you." She almost had the urge to throw up there and then.

"His father frightens me." Sansa whispered.

Petyr placed a hand on her shoulder. "He should, he's a dangerous man. But even the most dangerous men can be outmaneuvered. And you learned to maneuver from the very best. I return before too long. You'll both be strong without me. The North will be yours. Do you believe me?"

She wanted to, but she was afraid that if she did, she'd only get disappointed. "I expect I'll be a married woman by the time you return." She said sadly.

He said his farewells and left the two sister's alone again. "Sansa, I think it's getting late... We should rest."

* * *

The next morning Lyria was woken by a knock on her door. "Milady, I was sent to wake you!" It was a male's voice, much to her surprise.

Her tired eyes opened and she noticed the sun had still not risen. "I-I'm awake!" She called, "Y-you can come in!" But the man seemed to have already left.

She groaned in frustration, as she slowly got out of her bed. Goosebumps rose to her skin as she removed the thick furs off of her. He bare feet were cold against the stone floor as she stood.

It was then that she noticed the piece of parchemin that had been shoved under the door. Without any further hesitation, Lyria walked over to it and unfolded it.

 _Meet me by the Hunter's Gate in no more than one hour_

 _\- Ramsay Bolton_

Lily scoffed, ' _If he thinks I'm going to hunt with him he's in for quite a shock'_ she thought bitterly.

Nevertheless she put on her hunting trousers which were dark and comfortable, made of a thick faded fabric that was easy to run in. Her boots were made of fine leather and her soft dark coloured shirt was covered by a leather corset and a thick brown vest to keep her warm.

Then to finish off, she braided her hair to keep it out of her face. She almost wanted to make Ramsay wait just a little more than an hour to spite him.

But she resisted, knowing his reaction wouldn't be a good one. So she made her way outside, walking past the kennels towards the Hunter's Gate where she saw Ramsay with a very familiar man beside him. Her stomach dropped then and there when she recognized him. "Theon?"

"No! Milady! My name is Reek! Reek, it rhymes with meek!" It sounded as though he was begging her.

Lyrianna glared at Ramsay. "What the hell did you do to him!?" She yelled.

He shushed her. "Keep your voice down, people are still sleeping."

"Answer me." She demanded.

He raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "You're in no position to give me orders, girl." He grinned. "But if you must know, this is Reek. Theon is dead. Isn't that right, Reek?"

He nodded without hesitation. "Yes, master! Theon is dead. I'm Reek it rhymes with freak-"

"Stop it." Lyrianna said desperately. "What happened to him? To Theon?"

Ramsay chuckled. "Theon tried to take over Winterfell, He thought he had succeeded too, until he was betrayed by his own crew and delivered to the Dreadfort." Lyria knew that was where House Bolton used to live."I renamed him, trained him, he was a slow learner, but he learned."

"You flayed him." She whispered, noticing a few missing fingers.

He smirked darkly. "Peeled a few bits... removed a few others."

Lyria couldn't help but notice how 'Reek' shifted uncomfortably. She knew how Theon had betrayed her family, but seeing him like that made her pity him. He deserved to be punished for his crimes. He didn't deserve to be tortured.

Now she knew the rumours were true, "Wh-why did you ask me here?" She demanded.

He smirked. "Come with me."

* * *

 **Where do you think Ramsay will take her? Please review! :)**


	5. A Stroll in the Godswood

**Chapter 4: A Stroll in the Godswood**

* * *

Lyria couldn't help but be a little relieved as Ramsay led her away from the Hunter's Gate. As he took her into towards the Godswood she couldn't help but wonder what his intentions were.

To anyone who knew the forest like Lyria, thought it was disturbingly beautiful and inviting during the daylight, yet gloomy and creepy at fog seen afar, brought a vision of cataracts to your eyes. Every sound made back and forth made you turn and rotate till you were driven with insanity.

As she trudged along the soft, damp moss of the forest path, She remembered how the tree's soft whisper against the wind used to be like a lullaby, soothing and warm. It had been so welcoming and calm. Lyrianna had spent a lot of time there before she had gone to Kings Landing. The feeling of security was once all around but walking in the morning mist with Ramsay by her side, everything had abruptly changed.

Her once light smooth steps, turned to rough ridged stomps on the tough, rock path filled with twigs as Ramsay practically dragged her with him. She could no longer hear the tree's swaying movements with the breeze. They had been replaced by the snapping sound of twigs being crushed underneath their feet.

Reek had started muttering again and Lyria jerked her head to get a quick glimpse of him. "Reek, it rhymes weak."

She frowned at him, her gaze a mixture of anger, hatred and also pity. Ramsay, of course, noticed. "Are you still angry with him after he... what he did?" He seemed almost kind until she looked into his eyes, which were smiling back at her mockingly. "Don't worry. The North remembers. He's not ironborn anymore. He's a new man. A new person, anyway. Aren't you, Reek?"

"Yes, master." Reek answered without hesitation.

Lyria glared at Ramsay. "Why did you bring me here?" She demanded. "And why did _he_ have to join us?"

"Because Reek has something to say to you, don't you Reek?" Ramsay sneered as they arrived in very center of the forest, where there was a small, dark, and cold pool with an ancient weirwood heart tree right beside it.

The bark was as white as bone and it's dark red leaves shifted slightly in the wind. It's long and melancholy face carved in the bark stared back at them with deep-cut eyes, red with dried sap. "An apology."

He sat on a broken log beside the pool, gesturing for Lyria to do the same. "Apologize to Lady Lyrianna for what you did. Apologize for murdering her two brothers." Lyria's heart twisted at his choice words.

Reek looked to his feet and said in a quiet whisper, "I'm sorry." She could tell he meant it.

"Look at her, Reek." Ramsay ordered. "An apology doesn't mean anything if you're not looking the person in the eye."

Reek stared at her, his eyes looking right through her. Lyria's eyes were glassy with forming tears. "I'm sorry." He repeated.

"Sorry about what?" Ramsay urged.

"F-for killing your brothers." he whispered. Lyria frowned, her eyes wide and shining with forming tears that she didn't hesitate to brush away. Ramsay was pressuring her, and she could tell he was doing it on purpose as he grinned triumphantly at them both. "There, over and done with! Doesn't everyone feel better? I do. That was getting very tense. Whew." He chuckled. "You know what, my lady? What with him having murdered your brothers and the rest of your family gone, Reek here is the nearest thing to living kin that you have left, apart from your sister of course, but she can't give you away."

Her eyes widened when she realized what he was saying. "Reek. You will give away the bride. Someone has to. What better person? Good?" He looked over at Lyria, who opened her mouth to protest but she could barley bring herself to do it. So he just took her almost pleading silence for a yes. "Good."

"We should go now, everyone will be having breakfast by now." Lyria stated, her eyes watering still.

Ramsay smirked, taking her arm in his as he led her back towards the castle and into the dining hall as Reek had scurried off to the kitchens.

* * *

Ramsay stepped in first with a grin on his face as Lyria followed him towards the table. "Good morning everyone." He greeted politely.

Sansa sat between Roose Bolton and his wife Walda, a round pink butterball of a girl, with watery eyes, a huge bosom and limp dark hair.

Lyria sat beside him and his father where Walda sat opposite her, staring at her with a questioning gaze that Lyria simply ignored. Sansa gave her a sad smile at the other end of the stone table, as though she could guess how her sister was feeling.

The long silence lasted a while until Roose decided to brake it. "I trust you find your chamber suitable, my lady?" He asked her, not unkindly.

She nodded, using her false smile for the second time that day. For a moment she wondered how long she'd have to keep up the act. "Yes, thank you, my lord."

"Allow me." Ramsay took her goblet and poured some water into it. "Mother?"

Lady Walda gave him a genuine smile as he filled her goblet as well. But Lyria could tell it wasn't because of that that she had thanked him... No it was because he had called her 'mother'. Even Roose had seemed surprised. "Thank you, Ramsay." She gave him a genuine smile.

"My ladies, we are all a family, we northerners." Ramsay told Lyria and Sansa as he stood, goblet in hand. "Our blood ties go back thousands of years. So I'd like to drink to our wedding." He glanced at Lyria who stared back at him emotionlessly. "May our happiness spread from Moat Cailin to the Last Hearth."

"To your wedding." Walda, Roose and himself drank the water but Sansa saw the look on her sister's face and decided against it.

"It must be difficult for you two girls being in a strange place-" Walda started.

Lyria frowned. "This isn't a strange place. This is our home. It's the people who are strange."

She instantly regretted her words when she noticed Walda's large cheeks turn red.

"You're right." Ramsay smirked. "Very strange... Father, Lady Lyrianna and I went for a walk this morning in the Godswood. We've decided who should give her away a our wedding."

"Is that so?" Roose Bolton raised an eyebrow. "And who shall have that honor?"

Ramsay grinned. "Reek. He is the closest man she has to family, after all."

Roose turned his head towards her. "And you've met him, have you?"

She nodded. "I-it was a bit of a shock at first, my lord." She admitted.

Sansa frowned in confusion. "Who is Reek?" She asked innocently.

"Theon." Lyrianna whispered. "Theon Greyjoy."

Her eyes widened in utter shock. "You're going to let him give you away?"

Lyria nodded, her eyes pleading with her sister to stay calm. "Yes. He has apologized for what he has done, and he has had _enough_ punishment for it."

Ramsay chuckled. "Well, I don't know about that, but he is defiantly fit for the job. What do you think father? Good?"

Lord Bolton nodded his approval. "Walda and I have some good news as well, since we're all together." He stated.

He gave his wife the honor of telling them. "We're going to have a baby." She beamed.

Lyria almost cheered, but she knew that'd be a bad idea, especially when she saw the look of horror and anger on Ramsay's face, no more smugness visible in his eyes. "I'm very happy for you."

"From the way she's carrying, Maester Wolkan says it looks like a boy."

* * *

 **Please review! I'll update at 10 reviews. I like to know what my readers want! :) So please! I've already got 4 so only 6 more! ;) Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

 **Don't worry the wedding won't be long. That's where the real shit is gonna happen!**

 **\- Lyrisa xoxoxoxo**


	6. As Bad As They Say

**Chapter 5: As Bad As They Say**

* * *

That evening, Roose Bolton watched his son pace around the candle lit room. "How can you be sure?" He asked suddenly.

"Sure of what?" He asked, confused at his son's sudden outburst.

Ramsay gave him a look. "That she's pregnant. I mean how can you tell?" He mocked Walda's large figure.

Roose rolled his eyes. "Maester Wolkan has assured us beyond all doubt."

"So how did you manage it?" His son wondered. The warden of the north wasn't exactly sure if he was being serious or not.

"Manage what?" He sighed, almost exasperated.

Ramsay raised an eyebrow. "Getting her pregnant."

"I imagine you're familiar with the procedure." He retorted.

"Of course, but how did you find it?" A small, yet amused smile graced his lips as he spoke, causing Roose to loose his patience.

He glared at his son. "You disgraced yourself at dinner parading that creature before the Stark girls." He snapped.

Ramsay shrugged as though it was nothing, still thinking about the news. "And if it's a boy?" He asked seriously.

This made Roose chuckle in realisation. "You're worried about your position."

Ramsay's gaze finally met his own and his icy blue eyes seemed to pierce right through his. "My position is quite clear." He stated. "I'm your son until a better alternative comes along."

"You've never asked me about your mother." Roose said after a brief moment of awkward silence.

Ramsay frowned. "Why would I? She had me, she died... And here we are."

"She was a peasant girl. Pretty in a common sort of way." Roose ignored Ramsay's comment. "She was the miller's wife. Apparently they had married without my knowledge or consent. So I had him hanged and I took her beneath the tree where he was swaying. She fought me the whole time. She was lucky I didn't hang her, too. A year later she came to my gates with a squalling baby in her arms. A baby she claimed was mine. I nearly had her whipped and the child thrown in the river... But then I looked at you and I saw then what I see now..." He sighed. "You are my son."

Ramsay nodded, not as concerned about his position. Roose stood up from his chair and placed his hands of the table, staring into his son's eyes. "Stannis Baratheon has an army at Castle Black. But he won't stay for long. He wants the Iron Throne, and the road to King's Landing comes right through Winterfell. He means to take the North."

"But the North is ours." Ramsay almost growled.

"It's yours and mine. Will you help me defeat him?"

"Yes."

* * *

Lyrianna slowly approached her sister's room, her heart beating faster with every step she took.

She knocked gently on the door. There was no answer, yet Lyria knew that Sansa was in there. "Are you okay?" She asked softly through the door.

Her voice was as sweet as honey, yet mixed with caution as if her sister was going to yell at her.

"Sansa..."

She started, but the door creaked open, revealing her sister, who gestured for her to come in. Her eyes stared right through Lyrianna as though she didn't know her.

As slowly as it opened, the door was closed, making a slight click as Sansa turned around to face her sister."How could you? Theon betrayed us... And you're letting him walk you down the aisle? Why would you-?!"

Lyrianna let a stray tear fall down her cheek, remembering how broken Theon actually was. "You don't understand-"

"Then explain it to me." Her eyes were wide and almost on the verge of tears. "He killed our brothers..."

She bit her lip. "I-I know... But Ramsay... He's... You've heard the rumours, right?"

Sansa nodded, "Yes." She replied shortly. "I admit he scars me... But the rumours were worse, surely he isn't as bad as they say... I mean this morning, he wasn't-"

"You've only been around him while his father was there, keeping an eye on him." Lyria sighed. "The rumours are all true, Sansa... He's... You saw him when Walda announced that she was pregnant... He looked like he wanted to kill her."

Her sister walked over to her and held her hand. "You're just stressed because this is the second time you've been arranged to marry... Tyrion wasn't so bad was he? He was kind to you." She stated.

She nodded. "Sansa, Tyrion isn't Ramsay... That bastard hurt my maid. He burnt down her house, made her watch as he flayed her parents. What kind of a monster does that?"

Sansa frowned. "Really? Because my maid says he's very good to her. For all you know your maid lied to you."

"Myla wasn't lying... She terrified of him..." Lyria's eyes widened. "Wait... Your maid said _what_? Who is she?"

"Her name is Myranda." Sansa stated. "She told me how Ramsay punished Theon for what he did to our brothers. You should be grateful."

Lyrianna frowned. Her sister was never this cold towards her. "Sansa you haven't seen what he did... Theon isn't... He isn't Theon anymore." She whispered. "Please, you don't-

"Just go." Sansa snapped, opening the door again.

* * *

 **Please review! Let me know what you think Myranda will do in this story?! I updated before ten reviews because it's just been too long a wait.**


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